


The Ballast Girl

by twinewool (colouredwool)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: F/F, Lady of the Lake - Freeform, The Second Citadel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 01:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colouredwool/pseuds/twinewool
Summary: Sir Caroline’s night with the local girl from Ballast.





	The Ballast Girl

**Author's Note:**

> If you have access to the scripts you’ll know the Ballast girl has a name. But as much as I wanted to include it, it'll have to remain a special extra for +$7 Patreon supporters…
> 
> [[EDIT 10 Dec 2017]] Added in Emily's name as Sophie and Kevin mentioned it in the mid-season Q&A session!

                                           

Caroline takes her evening meal at the public house near the main pier. A damp, miserable hole, but the only place willing to serve food to the knights in this cursed village. It's fish stew today, oily and bland, and she stirs her spoon through the slick that's settled like scum on top with a sigh. It's nothing compared to the fresh, pan-fried crab and cockles that she finds herself homesick for, particularly now.

Inside the pub there's too many unfriendly strangers and walls on all sides, so she sits out the open front and watches the fishermen pass by. It's the end of the working day and their steps are heavy, faces drawn as they walk back to their dank little homes.

Caroline sips her stew and feels eyes on her, a prickle on the back of her neck. It's hardly unusual but she turns anyway, expecting to see another suspicious villager eyeing her from afar.

Instead, she finds herself looking into the eyes of a young woman – bright, and curious, and betraying a certain interest. A lingering look that trails up...and slides away with a smile.

Any man glancing at her like that would be firmly warded off. But this? Caroline didn’t expect this, not in Ballast.

The woman sits repairing nets in the yard with a group of others, leaning back against the fence as her hands work and work at wrapping cord and weaving her shuttle through loops and knots. The scarf keeping her hair back is a faded yellow, the red stitching washed away to pink, and small wooden beads wrap around her wrists and ankles in an array of warm oranges and browns. She looks tired like the rest of the villagers, but there’s a charm to her. A liveliness in her manner as she chatters to the women seated behind her, beads clacking up and down her arms as she moves.

She looks up again, and when she catches Caroline watching her she smiles that smile. Puts her work down to stretch her arms up above her head. Pushes her chest out to loosen her shoulders and spine, shuffles her hips just a little where she sits. Cocks her head and winks in Caroline’s direction.

Caroline can't help but huff out a laugh, turning her head away to hide her smile. She likes this girl. Playful. Unafraid.

She has a feel for this village after days of being trapped here, and she thinks she's found a rare spark of fun amongst its dreary inhabitants.

And, well...Sir Damien has been set on his task for the evening. Sir Angelo can look after himself for one night. And any useful leads have thoroughly dried up from the mouths of Brother Hengist and Sister Horsa.

She remembers her letter writing and the end of day reports waiting for her back in her room. It doesn't appeal. And what did the Queen try to impress upon her in her last missive? The importance of keeping busy until late?

She sits for a little longer and when she finishes her stew she gets up as casually as she can. Pulls on her coat with deliberate slowness as she walks through the yard and heads along the fence.

“How goes the work, Queen's knight?” the woman calls out as she comes near.

Caroline slows to a stop beside her. “Finished for today,” she says. She can feel the other fisherwomen turning to stare at them. “Unless you’ve a job for me?”

The woman shakes her head, but her smile is wide. “No, but I can offer some company maybe, if you're wanting. I'm finished here.” Her eyes meet Caroline's, whilst her hands fasten and trim the last of the net's ties with practiced ease. “It’s been a long day.”

“Long enough.”

“Need a place to rest, yeah? After all that hard work.”

Caroline lets her lips curve into a smile. “Perhaps. A warm bed would be welcome.”

“Hmm. A warm bed, huh? Maybe I do have a job for you then.”

There's a pause, and Caroline stays where she is. She hopes that's signal enough.

It certainly means something to the girl who takes a moment, then stands, adding the repaired trap to a pile beside two other women. They glance at her – one with a frown, the other with a smirk.

“Come with me.” she says.

So Caroline does.

She follows the woman down the main street of the village, keeping an easy pace behind. Her new companion doesn't speak, but she looks over her shoulder and beckons with one hand. They reach a corner and she turns them down a pathway behind the houses, past a wooden stile and onto a thin track skirting a wood. There's no one else here as they walk along, and the trees dampen the sound of the water lapping on the lake’s shore.

In the quiet the young woman tells Caroline her name.

“I know yours, Sir Caroline,” Emily teases, “though I never thought I'd see a lady knight round here. Didn't think that was the done thing in the Citadel.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” she agrees. “I’ve no complaints. Any knights that’ve passed through here before weren't much to talk about – but you're a sight for sore eyes. A real knight in shining armour.” She spins a little on her heel, glances over Caroline with a smile.

Caroline smiles back. “Maybe I should be worried. Sir Angelo rather outshines me when it comes to armour.”

Emily laughs and waves a flippant hand. “Oh. No. I’m only interested in the beauties who look striking in leather and sit brooding on the docks.”

“Brooding?” Caroline repeats, offended by the idea.

“You’ve a good brow for it. Very dashing.”

The evening light is fading fast now, but there are white stones along the path where it begins to follow the shoreline again. Markers that show up in the low light. There are a couple of houses here at the tail end of the village, and the occasional lamp stands in the windows, yellow and flickering.

“You know, I was expecting you to scowl when you caught me looking. I thought you'd stare daggers at me over your soup…but you smiled.” Her tone is light, but there's a genuine question in her voice.

“You surprised me too,” Caroline says honestly. “And it's hard not to smile when a pretty girl looks your way.”

“Oh, pretty am I?”

“Very.”

The path widens enough to let them walk side by side and Emily loops an arm through Caroline's elbow.

“Tell me the prettiest thing about me. I'll return the favour.”

Caroline laughs. “That’s easy. Your smile.”

“Of course. My best feature.” She frames her chin with her free hand and grins. “I'd like to say your smile too, but honestly those cheekbones won me over. Made it worth the risk.”

They pass another holding, and Caroline looks around, aware of how their voices echo off the water.

“Where are we going?”

“My place. It's not far.”

It isn't. They turn a corner and there's a huddle of buildings at the edge of the wood. Her place is a small hut, a room tacked onto a larger family holding that looks weather-worn but sturdy. Inside it’s mostly bare. A small place for a fire that Emily builds up when they arrive, a table and stools, a large storage chest, and a bed at the back. Just wide enough for two if they tuck close together.

“I haven't been in,” she explains about the chill, bent over the tiny hearth and trying to get the kindle to light fully.

Caroline kneels down next to her and waits. Touches her shoulder when the fire finally sparks to life.

“I think we'll keep warm enough,” Caroline says as Emily turns, and she kisses her.

It's all wind-chapped lips and bumping noses. But it's warm, and close, and there's a sweet feeling unwinding at the base of her spine as they fumble together in the moment. It’s been a while.

They break apart and Emily gives a breathy laugh. “Very smooth.” Her hands shift round to the small of Caroline's back to pull her in closer. “Go on. Woo me some more.”

Caroline is happy to oblige. They draw out their kisses for a while in front of the fire, hands wandering. Fingers pressing into hair, drifting down across shoulders, the curve of a spine. Tucking under clothes to the warmth of skin below.

Emily shifts where she kneels, leaning forward to deepen the kiss before wincing, a quick hiss of pain. “Wait, wait, my knees are killing me.”

Caroline detangles herself and follows as Emily stands up to stretch out her stiff legs. Her arms wrap around Caroline’s shoulders again and she leans in to murmur in her ear. “Bed, I think. For my knees’ sake, if not my own.”

Caroline considers for a moment. Then lifts the woman up into her arms, earning her a surprised squawk that dissolves into giggles. She carries Emily the few feet to the bed with a grin.

“Oh, Sir Caroline!”

She sets Emily down and revels in the laughter and kisses her silly impulse has gained her. It’s much more comfortable on the mattress, and their new position offers a definite advantage over the cold floor and bruised knees. She sighs as Emily pulls her close, hands running over her hips, settling along the tops of her thighs. They tease over the fastenings there.

“May I, Sir Caroline?” she asks. Her face is very close, lips brushing at the corner of Caroline's mouth.

“Please.”

Her boots and leggings come off with ease, but Caroline hadn't expected the evening to go this way. Her leather chest piece is still on over her tunic. The stiff straps tying it down prove too difficult for Emily, and she throws up her hands in defeat.

“I can't imagine what it's like to have to take off a full set of armour,” she says as Caroline takes over, pulling off the chest piece herself.

Caroline laughs. “Well. I’m not usually wearing it in bed for one thing.”

The rest of her clothes come off much quicker, and Emily pulls her back down until she's lying on the narrow mattress, sprawled out and naked beside her.

Caroline’s not shy of her body. It's strong, honed by years of discipline and training - and it shows. She finds herself smiling as the village girl stares in open admiration.

“Saints above, you're a lovely sight.”

Caroline let's her stare a little longer. Then reaches over and tugs at the woven belt that wraps around Emily’s waist.

“Your turn.”

Emily undresses swiftly, though she takes care to unwind the beads from around her ankles and wrists, shaking them free before she puts them aside.

The feel of skin on skin is blessed release, a comfort Caroline never thinks she misses until she's pressed up close to another person again. She’s happy to find that this village girl’s no fumbling first-timer. Her hands are sure and confident where they guide Caroline to touch her, show her where to press fingers and kiss lips and bite down with teeth. She asks with questioning hums what works, what doesn’t – laughs quietly when they don’t quite fit together in the awkward way strangers are wont to.

They find their way eventually, a rhythm to follow, and Caroline learns to reduce her giggling companion to gasping breaths and cut off moans. Emily may have made no secret of asking for Caroline’s company in public, but it’s clear she's learnt to keep quiet where her neighbours are concerned. Caroline is polite enough to follow suit when she lies under the hands and mouth of the woman herself. Though her lips are a bitten mess and the bed sheets thoroughly disheveled by her efforts to stay silent.

The exhaustion of the day eventually catches up to them both, and with a smug grin that falters into a yawn, Emily concedes to a night’s work well done.

The fire has dimmed to red embers by now, and Emily traces the marks and scars on Caroline's body in the low light. She doesn't say anything, just softly presses fingertips to each raised ridge and patch of uneven skin. Perhaps Caroline is supposed to share stories of heroic battles and the monsters she's taken down to gain such souvenirs. But no questions come, and she has no wish to speak of old wounds.

Emily has her own scars, she can see. Here and there, fewer than her own. Whether from everyday slips when gutting fish and mending traps, or...something else, she can’t tell. It isn't Caroline's right to ask, and perhaps Emily feels the same way about Caroline, despite the curiosity evident in her eyes.

It's far past midnight, and Caroline pulls her clothes back on whilst Emily watches her from the bed, chin in her hands. Her eyes follow each movement, and tired as she is, there’s a hint of longing there. She leans over the edge of the bed to help Caroline with her boots.

“There you are Sir Knight,” she says once the boots are fastened, patting her knee. “Go head bravely out into the night and save our village from this cursed lake.”

Caroline traces the young woman's cheek and tucks a stray curl of hair behind her ear. “Thank you. For tonight.”

The words fall short of what she wants to say, but Emily nods, and smiles her smile.

“My pleasure. And yours too, I should hope.”

Caroline smiles back. Leans down for one more kiss.

“Don't let the monster get you!” Emily sing-songs as Caroline walks to the door, and her laughter follows her as she steps out into the night, the joy of this unexpected evening bringing a smile to Caroline’s face.


End file.
